6. Jack
Chapter six
Jack
I slam another book shut, dust billowing into the air.
My personal library stretches endlessly around me, a maze of towering shelves and scattered texts that mock my attempts at research. The warming of my realm grows worse, yet answers elude me in this literary disaster.
I haven’t properly maintained these archives since that thieving librarian sold off my precious volumes centuries ago. I’ve just left it to Gabriel to get me what I needed. Now I’m paying the price for my negligence—forced to wade through this chaos alone rather than risk another betrayal. The irony isn’t lost on me that my fear of treachery may doom us all, as somewhere in this mess lies the key to saving my frozen kingdom from melting away into nothing .
And now there’s another reason to regret not taking the steps to hire another librarian—a woman. Violet Jones, more specifically.
My foul-mouthed mate.
I dislike her merely on principle. She insists she doesn’t know why she’s here, doesn’t know how she got here. I do believe her, a rarity for me—no human, especially from that magicless world, could possibly understand how to step into a new realm. She was brought here by magic, or someone or some thing .
But I need her to leave. The longer she stays, the more at risk my world is.
It was prophesied that her presence, that accepting her into this world, would be the ruination of it as we know it.
Beware the one with earth-bound soul,
Who walks through winter’s sacred gate.
The vessel’s power she’ll control,
And seal the kingdom’s final fate.
When mortal love meets ancient frost,
The old ways crumble into dust.
What ages built shall then be lost,
As power yields to mortal trust.
I suspect that it has something to do with the temperature that rises a little more each day—and the warmth that I felt when Violet first arrived here. The warmth that led me to her, the warmth that has curled around my ice-covered heart since the moment I looked into her eyes.
Unfortunate. Unwanted .
I need her gone. Nothing good will come of her presence. Unfortunately, my will alone is not enough to send her back home. There’s another way—there must be. It’s implausible that Violet might slip into my world but cannot squeeze her back into hers.
I’m too lost in my thoughts, my mind split between concern over sending Violet home and scouring page after page for any mention of how to make that happen, to notice that the strange sense of unnerving heat that Violet has instilled in me has intensified.
I turn my head, eyes narrowed.
And there she is.
It is unfortunate that she must be so beautiful. Worse that she is the one thing in my life that I must deny myself, that I—
I blink, shaking my head and gritting my teeth. Foolish bond . Attempting to bring me nearer to her, and her to me.
“I told you to keep your distance.” I force a frown of distaste on my lips. I refuse to be anything but cold to her. Nothing good can come of warmth, not in this world.
“And I was told that you needed my help.”
“By who.” It’s not a question.
“Gabriel, of course.”
I still for a moment, letting that sink in. Gabriel. I scowl and turn away from Violet, pretending to read while I try to process that. What game is he playing at? My advisor, while he always does what he believes is best, has this keen ability to anger me in ways no one else has managed before .
He has the realm’s best interest at heart, yes, but his faults lie in his ego. He sometimes forgets that his job is merely to advise me—not to act on my behalf.
“He had no right,” I say stiffly. “You may go.”
“Pass,” Violet says simply. “Point me to the books you haven’t gone through yet. We can get twice as much done that way.”
We . That unfortunate, misguided word.
“ We will do nothing. You will go find someone else to pester.”
She clicks her tongue. “I mean this with as much disrespect as I can possibly muster, Mr. Jack Frost. You can fuck right off with that tone. Don’t talk to me like I’m an illiterate child. Do not condescend to me just because you see me as beneath you.”
“Then perhaps you should listen.” My tone is terse.
“Perhaps you should ponder what you’d look like with your eyebrows shaved off and your castle melted to the ground before you treat me like a child.”
I look up in time to catch her venomously sweet smile as she winks at me. “Just a suggestion.”
It takes everything in me to swallow my words, to keep my tone halfway civil. “Your help, while the offer is appreciated, Violet Jones, is not needed. And if it’s honesty you’re looking for, it’s not particularly wanted, either. I intend no disrespect with my words, but I am far more effective when operating alone. Is that clear?”
She tilts her head to the side, thinking. After a moment, she sighs. “We’re being honest with each other?”
I shrug. “It would seem.”
“Alright.” She nods. “Then, honestly, you should know that nothing you might say will get me to walk out of this room and never return. You should know that I will be helping you look for a way out of this mess—this and your silly little kingdom warming issue. Whether it’s with your permission, or with you glaring at me from across the room, I will be here.”
I swallow thickly now. “Gabriel told you about the changes we’ve been having in temperature.”
“He mentioned it.”
I shake my head, palms flattened against the table beneath me as I look up at Violet. “Yet another thing he had no right sharing with you.”
“You can figure out how to punish him for his insubordination later, Lord Frost. For now, I’d really like it if you pointed me to your nearest shelf of unreads.”
I clench my jaw, fighting back the instinctive urge to freeze her in place. Violet stands before me with that infuriating smirk, acting as if she owns my realm already.
Her audacity both enrages and entices me.
“My personal library isn’t for mortal entertainment,” I say, keeping my voice level despite my rising irritation. “You’ve already invaded my home. Must you also demand access to my private collections?”
“Oh, come on, Frosty. What else am I supposed to do while stuck here? Count icicles?” She takes a step closer, and I catch the scent of her—warm vanilla and something uniquely her that makes my cock twitch traitorously. “Besides, I promise to be gentle with your precious books.”
I step away before she can see how her proximity affects me.
Gods-damned prophecy , I think bitterly. Why did it have to be her ?
I stare at Violet Jones for a long quiet moment. I know without a doubt in my mind that she will not be giving this up. Wanted or not, Violet will not walk out of this room without having scoured countless tomes, same as me.
I get the sense that making an enemy of Violet Jones would be disastrous—especially if she’s connected to the warming crisis, as I suspect. The ancient texts speak of a woman whose magic burns brighter than the sun itself, whose very presence threatens to melt the eternal frost.
Every time she’s near, I feel my powers strain and buckle, like ice giving way to spring’s first thaw. The prophecy warned of this: a mortal whose fire could destroy everything I’ve built over centuries.
Now here she sits, defiant and determined, completely unaware that her mere existence poses an existential threat to my realm. I cannot afford to push her away, but keeping her close might prove just as dangerous.
So, I sigh and jerk my chin to one of the large carved dark oak shelves pressed against the wall, crammed with various books about various things. “Start there. Touch nothing but the books on the outer shelves.”
“See? Was that so hard, blue eyes?” Her footsteps echo as she practically skips towards the shelves. The sound of her footsteps echoes through the library, a rhythmic reminder of her presence that sets my teeth on edge.
But as I watch her bounce away, my eyes are drawn to the sway of her hips despite my best efforts to remain stoic. My fingers clench at my sides as I fight the urge to follow her, to ensure she doesn’t get into trouble. Or worse—to pin her against those shelves and claim what my body insists belongs to me .
No. She is not mine to take.
The prophecy looms in my mind, a constant shadow over any wayward thoughts I might entertain about her. Yet the pull remains, growing stronger with each passing moment she spends in my realm.
I turn away from where she disappeared, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand rather than the lingering scent of her perfume in the air.
Distance. I must maintain distance.
But even as I think it, I know it will become harder with each passing day.